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He dipped his spoon into the dessert dish in front of him, scooping up a bite of fresh raspberries, an orange-liqueur-flavored mascarpone-cheese mixture and ladyfingers spread with what tasted like raspberry jam. “Abby, this dessert is amazing.”
She smiled across the table at him. “Thank you. Mom and Dad had tiramisu the first night of their honeymoon, so I tried to recreate that nice memory.”
“Ours wasn’t flavored with orange and raspberry,” Diana seemed compelled to point out. “We had a more traditional espresso-based tiramisu.”
Abby’s smile turned just a bit wry. “I found this recipe online and thought it sounded good. I wasn’t trying to exactly reproduce what you had before, Mom.”
“I think this one is even better,” Frank interjected hastily, after swallowing a big bite of his dessert. “Who’d have thought thirty years later we’d be eating tiramisu made by our own little girl, eh, Diana?”
Everyone smiled—except Melissa, who was playing with her dessert without her usual enthusiasm for sweets. It bothered Josh that Melissa seemed to become more withdrawn and somber as the evening progressed. Though she had made a noticeable effort to participate in the dining table conversation, her eyes were darkened to almost jade and the few smiles she’d managed looked forced. As well as he knew her, as much as he loved her, he sensed when she was stressed or unhappy. For some reason, she seemed both tonight, and that was twisting him into knots.
Maybe Abby had been right when she’d warned him that his nervous anticipation was affecting Melissa, though he thought he’d done a better job of hiding it from her. Apparently, she knew him a bit too well, also.
Encouraged by the response to his compliment of the dessert, he thought he would try again to keep the conversation light and cheerful. Maybe Melissa would relax if everyone else did.
Mindful of the reason for this gathering—and because he was rather obsessed with love and marriage, anyway—he said, “Thirty years. That’s a remarkable accomplishment these days. Not many couples are able to keep the fire alive for that long.”
He couldn’t imagine his passion for Melissa ever burning out, not in thirty years—or fifty, for that matter.
He felt her shift in her seat next to him and her spoon clicked against her dessert dish. He glanced sideways at her, but she was looking down at her dish, her glossy black hair falling forward to hide her face from him.
Frank, at least, seemed pleased with Josh’s observation.
“That’s it, exactly.” Frank pointed his spoon in Josh’s direction, almost dripping raspberry jam on the tablecloth. “Keeping the fire alive. Takes work, but it’s worth it, right, hon?”
“Absolutely.” Diana looked hard at Abby and Greg as she spoke. “All marriages go through challenging times, but with love and patience and mutual effort, the rewards will come.”
Abby and Greg shared a startled look, but Frank spoke again before either of them could respond to what seemed like a sermon aimed directly at them. “I still remember the day I met her, just like it was yesterday.”
That sounded like a story worth pursuing. Though everyone else had probably heard it many times, Josh encouraged Frank to continue. “I’d like to hear about it. How did you meet?”
Frank’s smile was nostalgic, his eyes distant with the memories. “I was the best man in a college friend’s wedding. Diana was the maid of honor. I had a flat tire on the way to the wedding rehearsal, so I was late arriving.”
Diana shook her head. Though she still looked worried about something, she was paying attention to her husband’s tale. “The bride was fit to be tied that it looked as though the best man wasn’t going to show up for the rehearsal. She was a nervous wreck, even though her groom kept assuring her Frank could be counted on to be there.”
Frank chuckled. “Anyway, the minute I arrived, all rumpled and dusty from changing the tire, I was rushed straight to a little room off the church sanctuary where the groom’s party was gathered getting ready to enter on cue. I didn’t have a chance to socialize or meet the other wedding party members before the rehearsal began. Five minutes after I dashed in, I was standing at the front of the church next to my friend Jim. And then the music began and the bridesmaids started their march in. Diana was the third bridesmaid to enter.”
“Gretchen was first, Bridget next.”
Ignoring the details Diana inserted, Frank continued, “She was wearing a green dress, the same color as her eyes. The minute she walked into the church, I felt my heart flop like a landed fish.”
Diana laughed ruefully. “Well, that doesn’t sound very romantic.”
Frank patted her hand, still lost in his memories. “She stopped halfway down the aisle and informed the organist that she was playing much too slowly and that everyone in the audience would fall asleep before the whole wedding party reached the front of the church.”
“Well, she was.”
Frank chuckled and winked at Josh. “That was when I knew this was someone I had to meet.”
Charmed by the story, Josh remembered the first moment he’d laid eyes on Melissa. He understood that “floppy fish” analogy all too well, though he’d compared his own heart to a runaway train. He could still recall how hard it had raced when Melissa had tossed back her dark hair and laughed up at him for the first time, her green eyes sparkling with humor and warmth. He’d actually wondered for a moment if she could hear it pounding against his chest.
“So it was love at first sight?”
Frank nodded decisively. “That it was.”
“And when did you know she was ‘the one’ for you? That you wanted to marry her?”
“Probably right then. But certainly the next evening during the ceremony, after I’d spent a few hours getting to know Diana. When I found myself mentally saying ‘I do’ when the preacher asked ‘Do you take this woman?’ I knew I was hooked.”
